


The Stories Long Forgotten

by Thenonehater



Category: Original Work
Genre: Ghosts, Ghouls, Immortality, Multi, Sucide, Trangender, Werewolves, mtf, vampire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-01
Updated: 2018-02-01
Packaged: 2019-03-12 06:15:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13541445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thenonehater/pseuds/Thenonehater
Summary: If one were to look beyond the boring and drab reality of our world, they would find one quite the likes of which they would have never seen. For they would see the world of magic and fantasy, where things would be more different then expected. Where the fae are dangerous and feared, where the werewolves struggle with coming of the full moon, and vampires struggle with the fate of immortality of having to watch the ones they love dying before their eyes.This is the cruel world of magic and fantasy, what most humans want yet, never and shouldn’t receive. But, life and fate tend to work in mysterious ways, and sometimes things are revealed to the wrong people.These are only some of the stories of the people in this cruel world of magic and fantasy, who live with the guilt,wonder and fascination.





	The Stories Long Forgotten

If one were to look beyond the boring and drab reality of our world, they would find one quite the likes of which they would have never seen. For they would see the world of magic and fantasy, where things would be more different then expected. Where the fae are dangerous and feared, where the werewolves struggle with coming of the full moon, and vampires struggle with the fate of immortality of having to watch the ones they love dying before their eyes.

 

This is the cruel world of magic and fantasy, what most humans want yet, never and shouldn’t receive. But, life and fate tend to work in mysterious ways, and sometimes things are revealed to the wrong people.

 

These are only some of the stories of the people in this cruel world of magic and fantasy, who live with the guilt,wonder and fascination.

  
  


Stanford Mason is one of those people, to many people he is monster, demon, something to be killed by dawn's early light. But, he is nothing more than a man just like yourself, expect for the fact back in 1794 by his act of kindness had cursed him to a life of immortality.

 

During 1794, he was young man at the ripe age of twenty one with two young boys and dotting pregnant wife who loved him unconditionally even though he was nothing more than a poor farmer. All life was good, he would tell you the name of his village, but alas, like most immortals he forgot its name, even the name of his wife and children, and his children’s children. He still regrets the night he let the man who ruined his life come into his home.

 

It during the time of a forgotten king in a forgotten time, The king was selfish and his people felt it. The price of taxes had risen the point where even farmers couldn't afford to eat. So, when an young boy who couldn’t be over the age of eight knocked on his door during grace, he thought nothing of it. He even invited the boy in, gave him food and water from his plate and cup, and even offered him a place in his family, since it seemed his parents had an untimely death.

 

Stanford, can’t remember the exact reason why he did it. Maybe it was because he looked like a sicker version of his sons? Or could it have been because his wife had just given birth to his first daughter and felt a duty to the young boy he just met? He doesn’t know, he just knows it was his biggest mistake.

 

For when the hut fell quiet, and one could hear the sound of a pin dropping, the child,- no the man had risen from the bed and walked quietly toward his prey. The man thought nothing of the one whose life he was about to ruin. He couldn’t really think at all, his mind was on full auto pilot and these were only a few, if not the only thing he could think of.

 

_ hungary,hungary , starving blood I smell blood, young to sweet-old ripe and aged. Eat, eat and live, live long, stay long, kill, eat, kill and kill blood suck it all. _

 

It wasn’t until he took his first bite Stanford awoke, yes there was pain- no he wouldn’t describe it as pain, it was torture _. It felt like someone was tearing him up from the inside out. _ He couldn’t move, he couldn’t pray it was as if he was paralyzed.

 

Then there was black.

 

When he awoke the next day he had hoped it was just dream, for what God would forsake a man who tried hard as many to stay away from sin? Who took in an helpless child, in need of parents even though he had three and there was no money?

 

But all of his hope was shattered when he heard his wife(Milinda) scream. He will never, ever forget the words she said to him, when they had put two and two together.

 

She touched his forehead with his, tears in her eyes but a smile, dainty and sincere and spoke in a hush tone so the children should not hear, said to Stanford “My dear, I love you more than life itself, for I know that you would never willingly harm me nor our children, till the end time, to the end of the world I love you.  You changing into a being that sucks blood and live in the night, that doesn’t change a thing. Because, I trust you and I know who I chose to marry.”

 

Just like that things became a routine, his wife, now tending to the fields during the day because he couldn’t. Because he found, that just one touch of sunlight, even a glimmer, would cause his flesh to burst into flame. He was not proud of this, because even though, he was stronger than ten men and faster than the fastest horse he still needed to feed.

 

So, when twilight dawned, he would kiss his wife and hug his children and hunt. He learned quickly animal blood was quite toxic, for one drop, caused massive abdominal pain and could not fill his hunger. Quickly he realized the horrible truth, that he had to kill another man, something that haunts to this day.His first kill, was a man a village away from him. Stanford remembers his facial details down to the last mole.For one does not forget the first blood they shed of another human, and how his hunger for the first time was filled and did not have the thought to kill his own family.

 

Stanford knew the man’s name, he was dunkard at the local tavern, he was someone he knew would not be missed by anyone.

 

Stanford approached the man from the side and sat down next to him.

 

“Hello my friend, how are you on this fine evening?” Stanford asked in the most polite voice he could muster.

 

For now that he was next to the man, he could now, smell the ale in body. How  the smell mustered and burned his nostrils. Even the man himself was unpleasant, his face covered with dirt and grime. His hair that must have been red at a point was now, ugly brown faded. Stanford had to control his own urge to gag, but alas, one does need to eat so he decided not show his  disgust. He just waited for his victim to speak back.

 

The man dry heaved for a moment and spoke back “Aye my friend, tis a lovely night isn’t ? It would be better if I could sway one of these bar bitches to bed, am I right ?” The man burped, and Stanford felt his nostrils burn once more, “Where are my manners?”, the man outstretched his hand “ My name is Liam, who might ya be ?”

 

Stanford grasped the ma- Liam’s hand shook it with vigour, “ My name is Craig, just immigrated from up North. Tell me Liam, whats your story ?”

Just like that Liam poured his life story out to Stanford, and in return Stanford bought cup after cup of Ale for Liam. Who did not notice that Stanford had not touched a single drop, and when the bigger man became too rambunctious and started to spout out ramblings of a mad man, Liam was dragged outside and Stanford not long behind.

 

Once Liam was done cursing the bar owner out he finally noticed Stanford, or as he knew him Craig. Then while still in a drunk rage tried to hit, and if any man, woman or child saw they would not believe their eyes. For, Liam was a man standing at 5’9, while Stanford stood at 5’3, yet Stanford dodge Liam’s drunken hit faster than any man should have, then grabbed Liam fist and flipped him on to his back. Than before Liam could even fight back, Stanford grabbed his head, and with a sickening  _ crack _ Liam lay lifeless on the dirty ground.

 

Stanford mesmerised by the Liam’s glassy eyes couldn't believe himself. He had taken a man’s life the ultimate sin, yet, he couldn’t bring himself to care. Because, he was immortal wasn’t he ? He would never have to face God’s judgement, but if he were die couldn’t he justify himself, he  _ was just so hungry.  _ With that Stanford had his first taste of a man’s blood, more of which was to come.

 

That night, just before sunrise, he returned to home stronger and fuller than ever before. He even felt well enough that he grabbed his heavily pregnant wife out of bed and swung her around a few, before he made out sweetly with her. He would have made love to her that night, but alas the dead  _ can _ love, but  _ cannot _ make it.

 

Though like all good things, it had to come to end. But it had hit him increments.

 

First it started when his wife passed. It was in day, she switched her sleep schedule to spend more time with him, Milinda passed swiftly in her sleep. Although, it was quiet and peaceful Stanford awoke when he smelt her blood stale in her body. That day, he screamed louder than he ever had before. Because, the one who had accepted him and loved him for what his is, was dead.

 

He left without even talking to children or his children’s children. He ran in the night fast and swift that some might have mistaken him for the wind, he never returned to the village. 

 

It was all too soon before he forgot everything,but the name of first victim and the name of his wife. He wouldn’t to tell you more about his past there, than what his wife’s face looked like, even then it was fuzzy. 

 

Maybe that’s why he found himself there, sitting on the porch of house he squatted in for the last twenty years. The house of was abonded for about ten years for what he guessed when he arrived. It was ratty with, broken windows and no front door, and dust all round,with weeds taken over the sides of the house.

 

Now? Now he waits patiently, waiting for the sun to rise. Because everyone no matter age or species get tired of immortality, Poor Stanford was tired of living and felt he paid his due to the world.

 

The sun now arises from the horizon, and Stanford smiles, he smiles through the pain of his flesh burning and the feeling of his eyes slowly melting. Before he is turned to complete ash, he spoke one sentence.

 

“My love, I readly return to you and out children.”

 

With that, he was turned to pile of ash slowly to be scattered by the wind on his front porch.


End file.
